This one ends on a downer note. I apologize in advance.

Thank you all for your patience. Things have been a little bit busier this week because, right after I published my daily routine for all to see, my classes switched to the afternoon (for this week only). This has confused and exhausted me. Hopefully this monstrous posting earns your forgiveness.

In a bit of strange news, the wind has been howling for two days now and I actually had to dig my long-sleeve zip-up out of my backpack this morning. Yes, folks, I am layering. I can’t believe it myself. The wind terrifies me for several reasons. First and foremost, in my second recent “reading things at awkward times” experience, I have started reading a little bit more in the last couple of days about the horrendous Hurricane Mitch that hit Nicaragua in 1998. Scientists called it the worst storm (on Earth, in believe) in 200 years. Needless to say, reading this as the wind howls through my room has made me a touch frightened. I’m not saying that there is a hurricane on the way (no one is saying that. Stop worrying, mom.), but I’d feel a lot better if I was reading my People Español instead (which I do on occasion. Did you know that Ricky Martin has twins? People Español has the exclusive. He’s kind of weird. Also, it’s a special diet issue (featuring the world’s fattest man)… so that should help me after I move out of my homestay family). My first “reading things at awkward times” experience, for those interested, was reading the chapter on airplane crashes in “Outliers” while flying to Victoria a few weeks ago. Apparently seven things need to go wrong in order for a plane to crash. I had counted five of them on my flight. It was uncomfortable. But I digress.

The second reason the wind terrifies me is that the tin roofs creak and move in ways that violate most Canadian building codes. With the wind blowing the way it has been, there seems to be a 50/50 chance that I will come home to a house without a roof (when I asked if “el techo” might go flying off of the house, the response was a laugh and a “maybe”. That did not inspire confidence). If the roof stays attached, rest assured it will make that metal-on-metal screeching sound that makes me wish it was gone anyways.

Finally, the wind terrifies me because I get the feeling power could surge and go out at any second, effectively blowing up my laptop (it’s worth noting that as I type this, the water just quit…). My homestay family’s office computer broke because of a power surge and my fragile laptop would probably light on fire (made worse because there is at present no water). That said, I have tried on occasion to look for a surge protector but have yet to muster up the confidence to ask questions about the product (that and I don’t know the Spanish word for surge protector). I couldn’t even buy shoelaces without resorting to charades and can’t think of the proper actions for “surge protector” (two words. First word…).

Today we went to a party in a nearby community for a nonagenarian (91st birthday… though reports put his age at anywhere between 85 and 98). We fit 23 people into a 12 passenger van and made our way to El Limon, a community of 150 just south of Estelí. The “birthday boy” and his music are apparently legends in the north of Nicaragua and there were reports that the President might even show up (a bit of an ambitious claim given that the President is in Venezuela at this moment). The President did not show up. I did, however, see many things, including chickens making love, awkward slow dancing, and a play about machismo and gender equity with laughter and what I can only describe as awkward moments. Also, out of nowhere (as in, midway through our conversation a pen and paper came out), a little person newspaper reporter interviewed me. I have no idea if he could understand my Spanish but he seemed content. He left the party on his mini-bike. I’m not making that up. Also, I have too many stories of awkward, inappropriate photography (from this and other activities) to share on this blog. Whenever there is a lull in our future conversations, just mention it and I will rant for a few hours.

Also this week, two new houseguests moved in with my homestay family. They are very friendly hippies (a little too “bring down the machine” / free-range chicken / hemp / nudist for my liking, but delightful nonetheless), but I do have a single concern with their presence. It has to do with urine so stop reading if you are averse to the topic. You see, my room is right beside the “guest” washroom. Also, the walls of my room do not come all the way to the ceiling, meaning that I can hear everything. There are very, very few things that I hate more than the sound of urine sploshing in the toilet. I am not kidding when I say that it has actually woken me up in the morning. I managed to make it through a morning without hearing the truck leaving and the outrageously loud sploshing of urine woke me up. Unbelievable. Why couldn’t they be like Hector and just pee on the front veranda while standing in the doorway (that, too, is awkward for a completely different reason. We will be playing tag or dancing to the Backyardigans theme song and out of nowhere, he declares “I’m going to urinate” and walks to the front door to do his thing. I just turn my attention to the Backyardigans until he returns as though there was nothing strange about that interaction). The sploshing is particularly annoying because I am relatively certain that sitting down on the toilet would significantly lower the volume (in fact, I might even sleep through it…). On a completely separate note, the hippies are weirdly obsessed with personal hygiene and public health measures. Borderline oxymoronic, don’t you think?

Finally, in my “things to examine in the coming days” dossier, remember what I wrote about cold showers? I may have accidentally discovered that this entire time I have been cold showering only because I didn’t turn the water pressure high enough. You see, I have only let the shower trickle in order to not freeze quite so quickly. Today, wanting to rinse myself more quickly (don’t want to be sudsy), I turned the valve some more and felt what I thought was lukewarm water. It is entirely possible that I was hallucinating. More on this stunning development later. I should note that this would fit with an earlier comment from my homestay mom who, when I asked if I should shower with the full bucket of water or with the running water laughed and said to use the running water because the bucket would be freezing. Until this morning, I thought that the bucket water was warmer. I feel dumb.

On a more serious note, one of our activities this week was a very interesting and sobering trip to a preschool in one of the many poor neighbourhoods in Estelí. Until then, I had been living in (and therefore only seen) a relatively small, central part of Estelí with basically all of the amenities one might need (including the basics of running water, power, and latrines in addition to all sorts of non-essential stores and services) and had forgotten that this is in fact a city and nation struggling to deal with extreme poverty in addition to several political, health, and social challenges. I have been living in luxury and that trip brought me back down to earth. Individuals were living in what appeared to be tents (made with a material similar to that used to dry coffee so I can’t even imagine the heat inside) or, if they were lucky, in 5 by 10 foot lean-tos. Those lucky enough to have houses were living with three other families. Services seemed non-existent, with one central water tankard, no latrines in sight, and only dusty roads with dirty black water seeping alongside them. It was eye-opening and made me remember where I was. I’m lucky to be living where I am and to have had the enjoyable experiences that I have had, but I think that it is important to remember that where I’m living and spending most of my time is the exception. I thought I’d share that and apologize for the brief “downer” moment. I will definitely continue to share lighter moments from this trip but thought it worthwhile to include this note.